


Kids and Their Choices

by Chash



Series: Disney Channel You [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Disney, Alternate Universe - Hollywood, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 22:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8915227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: It's kind of adorable, how scared Bellamy is of the Kid's Choice Awards.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for [minimallyeschew](http://minimallyeschew.tumblr.com/)! Takes place during the first fic.

“This really ins’t something you need to be nervous about,” Clarke says.

Bellamy doesn’t look convinced. If anything, it makes him look _more_ nervous, and Clarke tamps down on the wave of fondness before she can do anything stupid, like kiss the costar she isn’t even supposed to be dating at the Kid’s Choice Awards.

It’s not _her_ fault she likes him better than Finn.

“That’s easy for you to say,” he grumbles. “You do these all the time. We’re presenting. How do we present?”

“We rehearsed it, remember? Just do what we rehearsed and you’ll be fine.”

“What if they slime me? That’s this one, right? The slime one.”

“They don’t actually surprise you with the slime.” She pats his shoulder. “You’re going to be fine.”

He lets out a breath, closing his eyes, and Clarke takes advantage of the moment to check him out. Dressing up for the Kid’s Choice Awards isn’t really a huge thing, especially for guys, who have more trouble finding a happy medium between _t-shirt and jeans_ and _black-tie event_ , and Bellamy struggled with it. But he’s wearing a nice navy button-down and jeans that look more expensive than they are, his hair artfully distressed.

He doesn’t really look _better_ than he usually does; he just looks good all the time.

“You think I’ve actually got a shot at winning?” he asks, finally.

“Definitely. I keep telling you, you’re way more popular than Finn.” She pauses and adds, “I voted for you.”

“Really?”

“Anya emailed me when voting went live for my reference, so I went and checked all the nominees. I figured I might as well vote for you while I was there.”

He lets out a small huff of a laugh. “Well, now I feel bad I didn’t vote for you. But I’m pretty sure Octavia and her friends organized a whole campaign at school to get the show votes, if it helps.”

“So much. You know my ego isn’t actually tied to winning a Kid’s Choice Award, right?”

“That’s because you already won one.”

“That must be it.” She bumps her shoulder against his. “Seriously, you’re going to be fine. Do you have a speech prepared?”

“Yeah. If the show wins, I don’t have to talk, right?”

“Nope.”

“Awesome. Then, yeah, I’ve got a speech.” He lets out a breath, like he’s psyching himself up, and looks at her out of the corner of his eye. “How pissed is the network?”

“About what?”

“You’re showing up with me, not Finn. Doesn’t that screw up your dating narrative?”

“We’re phasing it out. Once he kissed me, I was pretty much done. Well,” she corrects, “I was done before that. But that got us on the same page. It’s awkward to fake-date someone you refused to real date.”

“It’s awkward to fake-date anyone,” he grumbles.

“Don’t knock it til you try it.”

“At what point are we trying it?” he asks, sounding curious. “I really don’t know how this works. Is showing up with you to the Kids’ Choice Awards enough, or does it have to be the Teen Choice Awards to be official?”

“People’s Choice is the real test of any relationship,” she tells him, affectionate. “That hits our whole demographic.”

“How many non-children-or-teen people care if we’re dating?”

“Don’t underestimate the nostalgic college students who pretend they’re watching ironically.” She loops her arm in his, casual, and starts guiding him toward the red carpet. Or–well, it’s a carpet, and there are cameras. “And stop trying to distract me. You’re not getting out of this.”

“You can’t tell me you don’t want to blow off the Kids’ Choice Awards and got get pizza instead.”

“You know the food here is free, right?”

“Good point.” He lets out another long breath. “Right. Stay close, okay? Don’t leave me.”

She has to smile; it’s one of her favorite things about him, the lack of ego, the way he doesn’t mind admitting when he needs help. He’s a very smart, very competent guy, but he knows that this is more her world than his, and he’s happy to follow her lead when he doesn’t know what’s happening.

Also, he’s _terrified_ of the _Kid’s Choice Awards_. Which is really, really cute.

“I won’t,” she says. “We’ll be fine.”

*

They meet Jasper and Monty lingering by the entrance, apparently waiting for backup before they go in, and that helps Bellamy too, having other people to fret over instead of just worrying about himself. The four of them go in together, but she and Bellamy end up lagging, because people are more interested in talking to the leads than to the comic relief. If Monty and Jasper seemed upset, Clarke would try to get them involved, but they seem relieved to be able to dash off to the food and leave her and Bellamy behind.

Bellamy’s honestly the main draw, from what she can tell; it’s his first major awards show, and fans are still delighted by his Cinderella story origins, this kid just like them who got plucked out of obscurity and now gets to live a life of fame and glamour.

“So, what are you most excited for?” one of the reporters asks him, grinning.

“Clarke winning,” he says, instantly, and the reporter laughs.

“What about you?”

“I’m sure she’ll win, I’m not sure I will,” he says, ducking his head. “But that would be cool too, I guess. Not to be a cliche, but it’s an honor just to be nominated. I guess the novelty will wear off eventually, but most days I still can’t believe I have this job and people want me to come to awards shows.” He glances at Clarke with a smile. “So, yeah. I’m mostly excited for her.”

“Which is going to be tough if I lose,” Clarke says. “Because he’ll be more upset than I am, so I’ll have to comfort him.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely true.”

“What are you looking forward to most, Clarke?” asks the reporter, and it’s an easy hit to return.

“Bellamy winning,” she says, and he laughs.

“Get ready for disappointment,” he teases, and it’s just as easy to field that one.

“Being friends with you? I already am.”

Once they’re through the press, they make a beeline for Jasper, Monty, and food, and they check that out until it’s time to go in. They’ve got a few nominations between them–Favorite TV Actor for Bellamy and Finn, Favorite TV Actress for her, and Favorite TV Show for _Princess Proper_ –and they’re presenting for Favorite Animated Movie. She and Finn _aren’t_ up for Cutest Couple, which is a relief, and she’s looking forward to a fairly laid-back show, once she’s done with presenting. She can give award speeches in her sleep at this point, which feels a bit conceited to say, but she’s popular with her target demographic. It’s not _her_ fault. It’s just a fact.

Their presentation is fairly early, and it goes off without a hitch; Bellamy says all his lines clearly and correctly, no one gets slimed, and they make it back to their seats without incident. Clarke’s between Monty and Bellamy, which is a fairly safe place to be, except for Bellamy’s under-his-breath commentary making her snicker.

But that’s pretty great too.

Her category hits first, and she hugs Bellamy, and then Monty, and then Bellamy again when she wins. She inserts all the right new names into her fairly standard speech, thanks Kane for giving her such a great opportunity, all her coworkers for being so great, and adds, “And thanks to Bellamy for giving up his awesome life as an average high-school kid to hang out with me instead. I really appreciate his sacrifice.”

She’s backstage getting her picture taken with her blimp when his category comes up, and she excuses herself to go watch by the curtain, stupidly anxious, and her stomach drops when the win goes to some guy from Nickelodeon.

At least it wasn’t Finn. That’s something.

“Are you going to give him your award?” asks one of the reporters, and Clarke flashes a mostly genuine smile for the camera.

“Nah,” she says. “He’ll get his next year.”

*

They do win for best show, which makes her more annoyed that Bellamy didn’t, but he seems genuinely and completely unconcerned. She offers her condolences, low, when they get back to their seats, and he rolls his eyes and asks if he can see her award. He flies it through the air once, shrugs, and returns it with a, “Yeah, I don’t really need one of those,” and she finds she believes him.

She still wants him to get one, but it is his first year. He’s got plenty of time.

There are a few more photo ops after, and then more food. Bellamy lets himself be separated from her for the first time when Monty and Jasper drag him off so they can show him all the best complimentary swag, which obviously he’s very interested in, and Clarke watches with a fond smile on her face.

“I was wondering when I’d meet your new protege.”

Clarke turns only half of her attention to Ontari Allen, leaning against the wall next to her. Ontari played her best friend on _Band of Bros_ , a terrible casting choice, given their off-screen relationship could most generously be described as _frenemies_. If you were being really nice about it.

“I didn’t know you wanted to,” Clarke says, just as mild. “If you wanted an introduction, all you had to do was ask.”

“He’d be very popular if you stopped hovering.”

“He told me to hover,” she says. “Was there something you wanted, or just wanted to be weird?”

“I was looking for something to do after this,” she says. “I thought he might be a good choice.”

“Okay, so, weird, got it.” Bellamy glances at her, cocks his head like he’s worried, and she clears her expression to smile at him. “If you want to try, knock yourself out. But I don’t think he’s your type.”

She gives up after that, and it’s so obviously an attempt to get a rise out of her that Clarke can’t bring herself to care even a little. She doesn’t know much about Bellamy’s romantic inclinations–he said he likes chests, in girls, that’s about the sum total of her knowledge–but she can’t imagine him going for someone like Ontari. Not for anything more than a quick night of fun. And if he wants one of those, it doesn’t really matter if Ontari is a horrible person.

It’s the others who are more upsetting. Nice, completely unobjectionable girls asking Clarke about Bellamy tentatively, feeling out if the two of them are an item and, if they’re not, if he’s available. It’s only when Bellamy’s gone, and they clam up as soon as he’s back, and Clarke feels only a little bad for not telling him how popular he is. But it’s not like he isn’t getting hit on; he just doesn’t seem to care. He’s more interested in finding and sampling all the free cookies he can, and stealing all the swag and food he can for his sister.

Ontari might want a date after this, but Bellamy seems content with just hanging out.

She’s just finished telling a very nice girl on a PBS show about teenage time-travelers who go to different points in history who’s probably _exactly_ his type that, no, she and Bellamy aren’t together, when he shows back up, gives her a cookie, and says, “Seriously, can we leave yet? I’m so bored.”

“How can you be bored when you have that many cookies?”

“It was a surprise to me too.” He gives the girl a smile. “Sorry for interrupting. Want a cookie?”

“Oh, no, thanks. Good to see you, Clarke,” she says, and bobs away.

“You’re really ready to go?”

“I don’t have a blimp to keep me occupied,” he teases. “Also, there was a ton of food here, but I’m worried about O. And, fuck, I just want cheap, greasy pizza. How do the Kids’ Choice Awards not have cheap, greasy pizza?”

“They’re trying to be fancy.”

“Fuck that. Let’s get out of here and watch cartoons.” When she doesn’t immediately respond, he blanches, clears his throat. “Uh, unless you’re having fun. You can stay. I’m pretty sure I can get the driver to take me home without supervision, so–”

She laughs. “No, no. That sounds way better than this. Let’s definitely leave.”

“Cool. If I had to talk to one more nice stranger, I was going to die.”

“Poor Bellamy. No one told you actors were supposed to be social, huh?”

“You didn’t. That’s your job. Teaching me how to be an actor.” He smiles down at her. “It wasn’t awful or anything. Just–honestly, not really an improvement on hanging out with you on the couch. I get to wear pajamas for that.”

“You could wear pajamas to this too. No one would stop you.” She loops her arm in his again as they leave, out of general affection. “I’m still making you come to these until you win one.”

“Shit. I better campaign next year. I never want to come back.”

“Come on, you had a little fun.”

“Yeah, when you won.” He gives her a grin. “Seriously, I don’t care about any of this celebrity shit. But–thanks for having my back. I appreciate it.”

It doesn’t really feel like she had his back, given she passed on contact information for none of the girls who were asking about him. But–she’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to talk to any more strangers tonight. Just go home and hang out on the couch.

With her. Hang out with _her_.

“I’m the one who got you into the whole celebrity mess,” she says. “The least I can do is make sure you survive it.”

“That is the bare minimum, yeah.” He holds the door of the town car open for her. “Coming home with me?” he asks. “Or you done?”

She has to smile. “Coming home with you,” she confirms. “Always.”


End file.
